


But, There's Only One bed

by artistic-writer (Itrustyoutokillme)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS AU, F/M, Kinda PWP, One Shot, Smut, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, caught in a blizzard, cs fic, kissing in the dark, which is hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29267334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/artistic-writer
Summary: Whilst trying to fly to Norway to visit his brother at Christmas, Killian Jones encounters a grounding snowstorm and a charmingly beautiful blonde who keeps him company at more than just the airport.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	But, There's Only One bed

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally planned for a Christmas event, but real life made it hard to get it done in time, so here it is now!

Yet again, with a flick of his wrist, Killian checked his watch. _10:30pm._ The hour hand had been creeping around the face slower than usual, he was sure, and he had run out of things to occupy himself. Liam had been right when he had suggested a later flight back home for Christmas, but Killian, a natural observant, was finding the lesser population in the wee hours somewhat droll. Sure, there were the usual midnight flyers, shuffling through check-in like the antisocial zombies they were, but nothing really of much else interest. With a hefty sigh, he plopped down into one of the waiting area seats, the flimsy plastic creaking a little, and resigned himself to the fact that the only good things of value to watch, were the snowflakes outside as they drifted dreamily through runway spotlights like diamonds in the night sky.

The snow in itself was not much cause for concern, the light flurry barely settling on the wet tarmac of the runways, but the airline’s propensity to cancel flights at the slightest sign of bad weather had Killian a little apprehensive that he would make it back home to his family at all. When Liam and Elsa had married in her native homeland of Norway, Killian hadn’t minded the snow. In fact, Killian had thought it rather beautiful, and the whole ceremony had firmly convinced him of the romanticism seen in the delicate, barely frozen crystals by so many. Right now, however, stuck in an airport on Christmas Eve well after most of the retail outlets and gifts shops had closed up for the holidays, Killian was finding it hard to see the snow as anything but an inconvenience.

He fidgeted in his seat, letting the heavy duffel bag he had convinced himself was enough to travel with, drop to the floor beside him. With a move that made him seem more flexible than he was, he hooked his foot around the edge of the bag and dragged it in front of him, unzipping it and rooting around inside. He had turned off his phone earlier in the day in an attempt to preserve what little battery power he had left, or so he had thought. When he pulled the device from where he had tucked it between two shirts, the screen lit up like, well, like a Christmas tree, the background image he had chosen of him and Liam as teenagers only briefly flashing before the final one percent of power drained, and the phone died.

“Bloody great,” Killian huffed, throwing the phone back into his bag with a little more force than entirely needed.

“I have a charger you can borrow if you’d like?”

Killian sat back in his seat and noticed that a woman had, at some point, appeared next to him. He couldn’t have been annoyed if he had tried. She was amazing, stunning, actually, with a haze of light around her which Killian wasn’t entirely convinced wasn’t intentionally set there by some otherworldly being. With her rich, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, she offered him a tentative smile, the rise of the apples of her cheeks drawing his gaze to her where he found himself suddenly mesmerized by her beautiful golden flecked green eyes. He stared. Just stared. Like he had been caught in the majesty of her beauty as a rabbit would be in lights, frozen to the spot, incapable of uttering anything more than a slight, unmanly whimper in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry?” She asked innocently, her smile fading.

“Oh, I didn’t say anything,” Killian said hurriedly. He felt like the air had just whooshed back into his lungs after holding his breath for hours, and it was exhilarating.

“Oh, I thought you-”

“No, I-”

“If you need-”

“Aye, but-”

The awkwardness of them talking over each other like a couple of blithering idiots was, thankfully, witnessed by nobody but the other person, and after a few attempts to restart her initial offer, she gave up with a wide grin and an almost too happy sigh that made way for a giggle that melted his heart.

“Where are you from?” She said softly, changing the conversation to something a little less likely to cause another word-vomit war.

Killian took a steadying breath and prepared to answer her, but the second their eyes met, he was lost again. His heart was beating a steady rhythm of excitement in his chest and the skin along his forearms prickled with goosebumps, the hairs under his sleeves stretching in their follicles as if they were reaching out for her. Another moment staring longingly into her eyes had him mute once more as if he had been stricken by a silent siren’s song that had swirled from the depth of her emerald hues and gripped his throat like a vice. He gave his head a little shake, trying to comprehend the simple question she had posed to him, without looking like too much of an idiot.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he forced out in a hoarse voice. “I’ve not been much of a gentleman so far, have I? Killian Jones,” he said more confidently than he ever believed possible. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“England,” was her reply, followed by that same chest crushingly sweet giggle. She pointed a finger at him, as if absolutely certain of her declaration. “You’re from England.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his lips ticking up into a smirk. “Oh, you’re an expert!” He teased. “My apologies, love, I was unaware.”

The woman pushed herself more upright in her seat, straightening her back and letting the whip of her ponytail fall from her shoulder. She extended a hand to him, creamy skin and perfectly manicured fingernails adding to her angelic qualities even more. “Emma Swan, England expert.”

Killian grinned. “And what, pray tell, has Emma Swan, England expert, sitting in the deserted departure lounge of a near-abandoned airport on Christmas Eve?”

Emma scratched her chin, as if stroking an invisible beard of wisdom and twisted her mouth sideways as if trying to recall a reason.

“Research?” She offered, laughing immediately at her own words.

Trying not to be too offended, Killian decided to play along with her harmless fun. “And am I an adequate test subject?”

“Hmmm,” Emma hummed in contemplation. Her eyes roamed over his face, moving with purpose so that he could see her sizing him up, taking him in, appreciating that of all the people she could choose to be sat next to, Killian Jones wasn’t half bad. Her hand was on her chin once more, before a single finger absently tapped at her mouth, something that drew his attention immediately and made him lick his lips. She smirked and casually shrugged. “You’ll do.”

Killian laughed, and it didn’t escape his notice that he hadn’t laughed like that for the longest time. It felt good. He quickly cast a glance over his shoulder, and then to his left and finally his right, a full circle observation that concluded he was, indeed, one of the only men around them at that particular moment, let alone the only person from England. Turning back to Emma, he gave her a cheeky grin.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much choice. I seem to be the only Englishman here.”

Emma followed his earlier gaze around the airport lounge. There was _one_ other man, but from his dark blue coveralls and the way he was singing _Feliz Navidad_ as he held onto the floor buffer in front of him, Emma knew, unless he was the most bilingual janitor in history, that he was probably not from England. The man did a little shimmy to the music that was currently being blasted into his ears via his headphones and Emma noticed his name, Jesus, and turned back to Killian with a smile.

“Maybe Jesus is from England?” She argued, thumbing over her shoulder.

Killian raised an eyebrow at her. “Jesus is not a common name in England.”

“Neither is Killian,” Emma countered, her smile turning into a knowing smirk. “Maybe in Ireland.”

“Emma Swan, I am suspicious of your knowledge, and am currently wondering your reasons for being here.” Killian pointed an accusatory finger in her direction, but it was playfully accompanied by his cheeky smile. “Are you stalking me? Is this what this is? Did Liam send you?”

“Liam?” Emma frowned.

“My brother. Nevermind, he’s an arse.” If it wasn't for Liam and his perfect wife, planning the perfect family Christmas he just had to attend, but not factoring in a snowstorm, Killian might have been enjoying a warming toddy right about now. Although, he wasn't about to deny that his day wasn't already looking up.

"Liam, huh? That's a lot of Irish names for a couple of handsome Englishmen." Emma smirked. Her eyes flicked over his body, deliberately and slowly coming back up to meet his gaze.

"I assure you, love, I possess all the good looks." As if to make a point, Killian made himself impossibly more handsome by running a hand through his stress tousled locks and exaggerating a whip of his head like some sort of catwalk diva.

"And the modesty it seems," Emma teased, ignoring the way her throat had gone dry.

"Aye, such a burden." Killian feigned an over dramatic eye roll that had her laughing again. He watched the way her head fell back and her whole body seemed to move, the corners of her eyes creasing in such a delicate but natural way, and the swish of her ponytail settling delicately on her shoulder. Her cheeks turned a little red as she momentarily placed a hand on his, the warmth of his skin on hers cutting off the chuckle and causing her to cough awkwardly.

"Norway," Killian said softly after she had retracted her hand and his heart had started beating again. He cleared his throat when his voice sounded too high pitched, his hands pressed together and trapped firmly between his knees, lest they be tempted to explore the electricity he'd felt from her fingertips a little more. "My brother and his wife live in Norway and this will be the first Christmas I have seen them in a few years."

"How many?" Emma asked gently, aware it was probably a sore subject based on his early anger.

Killian looked ahead of himself once more, the veil of white cascading down onto the tarmac now almost too heavy to see through. "Six," he sighed, unable to see even the blinking lights on the runway anymore. "Probably seven by the way this weather is going."

Emma followed his gaze and grimaced at the conditions outside. She'd seen the weather report on the news and they hadn't forecast snow this bad. A light flurry, they had said, nothing to worry about. Christmas travel would proceed as normal, they assured, but on reflection, Emma was now sure that was just a jinx.

"I'm sure it will pass," she offered. "They would have cancelled our flights, right? Delayed is good. It means they are still scheduled."

Killian looked back at her, this pretty, optimistic angel of a woman who had clearly never tried to travel during a sudden blizzard. He'd been a fool. He should have booked time off work and travelled sooner like Liam had suggested but no, he just had to finish drawing up the plans for the new public library that he had been tasked with designing fourteen months before they were due to break ground.

"Aye, love, I'm sure you're right," Killian agreed with a slightly forced smile, but before Emma had time to respond, a loud chime announced the arrival of a tannoy message broadcast over the whole airport waiting lounge.

_"Attention travellers. Due to adverse weather conditions, we regret to inform you that all flights for the foreseeable future have been suspended whilst we wait out the storm."_

"Bloody hell," Killian ground out, angrily staring at the flush ceiling mounted speakers above them.

_"All of those passengers who are awaiting long haul flights will be compensated and rooms have been made available in the hotel adjoining the airport. Once again, we apologise for the inconvenience caused. Merry Christmas."_

Killian let out a long breath, balling his hand into a fist and banging it against his knee. Emma sighed too, a little less annoyed and flopped back in the chair hard enough to shake the whole row.

"Guess we jinxed it," Emma shrugged casually and when Killian looked over in her direction, all of his tension fading away, she snorted in an attempt to hold in a laugh, and he found himself joining in with her mirth.

\--

After making their way to the check in desk and realising that they were, in fact, due to be on the same flight, Killian offered to chaperone Emma to the hotel. Luckily there was an internal shuttle service from the terminal to the hotel, but it could only get so close to the front door, and they had to walk the rest of the way. The distance was minimal, probably only twenty feet or so, but it seemed they were fighting against the blizzard, whilst the wheels of Emma's luggage had given up working once they had hit the freezing cold snow covered ground.

Killian had, at some point, figured he would be better off carrying all the luggage, regretting his decision the second he tried to pick up Emma's case. He would never know why a woman's suitcase was so heavy, or in fact how women managed to pack literally everything but the kitchen sink, but he wasn't about to mention it to someone he had just met. Being a gentleman didn't always afford you the answers. The snow was icy cold, like shards of glass against his face, and he did his best to try and shield the women behind him from it, grabbing onto her gloved hand in the silence of white that surrounded them, the only sound between them the crunching of freshly laid snow underfoot.

Stepping inside the lobby was like sinking into a warm bath in the winter, a blast of warm air from the overhead heaters causing a rosy tint to adorn both their cheeks. Emma's teeth chattered a little, her shoulders jumping involuntarily as she shook and pulled off her soaking wet gloves, stuffing them into her jacket pockets. The cold had seeped into her bones, her skin ashen and almost blue, especially around her lips, and she rubbed her hands together as if she was trying to start an imaginary fire right in front of her.

Killian had promised he would see to the rooms, leaving her sitting under a heater in the huge lobby, the sound of a water fountain still trickling and untouched by the cold filling her ears, however, the sound was muted by the ringing that had taken hold of her senses on account of the cold, and Emma shook her head with each shiver.

"I have good news and some bad news," Killian announced, practically skipping back to her with his hands plunged deep inside the pockets of his pea coat in an attempt to keep them warm.

"G...good news first," Emma stuttered, blowing a breath into her hands. Even that felt cold.

"We have to share a room because, apparently, that's policy." Killian imitating the desk clerk had her smiling again and she looked up to see his mischievous grin.

"And the bad news?"

"We have to share a room because, apparently, that's policy," Killian repeated, a boyish grin plastered on his face.

Emma rolled her eyes but if she was being honest, she didn't mind one bit. Again, Killian carried her bag to their room, which was luckily not too far from where the elevator had dropped them off. It seemed as though they were the only passengers on the third floor as some had decided to brave the storm and find their way back home, and most of the others were housed in the floor below. Killian followed Emma down the corridor, even the red carpet underfoot and the warm orange glow of dim hallway lighting making the whole hotel much warmer than the hostility outside.

Emma slipped the key card into the slot just above the door handle, the sliding click of an electronic lock opening signalling her admitted entry. She pushed down the handle and the door swung open freely, the warmth in the room hitting the cold of her cheeks like a burn. The heater was above the window and having been set to a comfortable temperature, had been keeping the room warm for the next occupants, something Emma was so thankful for.

She fumbled against the wall for the light switch, finally locating it with numb fingertips and flicking it on. The whole room burst into light, more yellow than the hallways conches, and Emma found herself feeling warmer already. The soft click of a latch behind her told her that Killian was inside too and he almost bumped into her as he wheeled her suitcase down the tiny entrance hall and set it by her side.

"Uh, Killian?" Emma looked at him and then back at what the lights had revealed, her face paling.

"Oh," he blushed, pawing at the skin behind his ear as he followed the point of her finger.

There, right in the middle of the room, headboard pushed against the wall, was the bed. Singular. One bed. It was huge and luxurious and had what looked like the most opulent feather duvet, thick and inviting and stretched out over the mattress without a single crease in the fabric of the cover. Each pillow had a tiny mint sitting at its center, but other than the slight indent it made, they too were pristine and virginally white.

"Well, we should get some sleep," Emma announced, breaking the silence and working the buttons on her coat.

Killian blinked. "But love, there's only one bed."

Emma nodded as she tossed her coat over the back of one of the hotel room chairs. "Which side do you want?" It took Killian a moment to realise Emma's implication; that they would share the bed. "I normally sleep on the left, but I'm easy." She froze, eyes widening as he gave her an equally surprised look. "That came out wrong."

"I'll take the floor," Killian offered, walking to the wardrobe and opening it to find just one spare pillow, already flattened by possibly years of use, and a thin, itchy looking blanket that was barely big enough to stretch over the bed, let alone him. "It wouldn't be proper to expect a lady to do so," he said casually, folding the blanket in half lengthwise and setting it down on the floor of the right side of the bed.

"Oh, are you sure?" Emma asked sweetly, watching him untie his laces after he had perched on the too-small-for-a-grown-man-to-sleep-on mini couch. "I mean, I could probably fit on the couch," she offered, pointing to where he sat.

Killian tugged off his second boot and set it with its partner next to the couch, offering her a reassuring smile when his eyes met hers again. "I'll be alright," he lied convincingly.

Emma felt the pang of guilt deepen when Killian slid off the couch and attempted to make himself comfortable on the makeshift sleeping quarters he had so hastily thrown together. She winced when he turned over into his side, imagining the pain he must have felt in his hip and shoulder, a thought compounded by the way he fidgeted for a better position. Finally, he seemed to settle, one arm under the paper thin pillow to keep his head off the floor and the blanket pulled up so high that his feet poked out at the bottom.

"Goodnight, Swan," he uttered groggily. "Sleep well."

Aware she had literally been watching him the whole time, Emma switched on the bedside lamp and turned off the main light, plunging the room into almost darkness. She could barely see because the bulb was such a low wattage, fumbling around in the unfamiliar room as she attempted to divest herself of as many clothes as she comfortably could, without the willingness to freeze to death during the night. As she slipped under the duvet, the weight of it pressing her into the mattress, she reached over and a soft click as she switched the light off turned the room black, and she let out a tension releasing sigh.

"Goodnight, Killian Jones," she whispered into the darkness but no human sound came back, just the soft grunt of a very tired man responding to his name in a state of sleep.

Two hours passed before Emma decided she really couldn't sleep. She tried everything but no matter how many sheep she counted, or how many times she counted backwards from one hundred, she just couldn't seem to shake the guilty feeling she had, especially when Killian began shivering on the floor. He was asleep, she was pretty sure, but must have been so cold his body had begun it's defense mechanism for dealing with the cold, and after each bout of quaking, he seemed to let out an exhausted sigh. Emma tossed, and she turned, the luxury of the duvet adding to her criminality even more when it seemed to grow sentient and wrapped it's feathery arms around her until she was too hot.

"Killian?" Emma whispered and then waited. Nothing but silence was returned so she rolled over in an attempt to shuck off her guilt.

The sound of teeth chattering roused her next and she rolled over to the other side of the bed to make sure she wasn't just imagining it. Sure enough, Killian had somehow lost his blanket and remained asleep, his body curled up into the foetal position, feet crossed at the ankles and hands gripping desperately to his elbows. It was pitiful and Emma wasn't about to let a grown man freeze to death on account of chivalry. With an effort she didn't realise was needed, she threw back the covers and was immediately hit with a cold blast, her own shoulders dancing when a chill crept up her spine.

She made her way to the AC control panel, conveniently lit up blue in the darkness, and saw that the heat had been turned off remotely. Emma huffed, pressing a few buttons, but nothing happened, just the eerie silence of snow falling outside making her feel even colder. It was deep now, and the runway, visible from their hotel room, was covered in at least a foot of untouched snow. It seemed they were destined to not see their families this year after all.

The sound of a man sucking in a sharp breath made her jump, and when she turned to see if Killian was okay, his teeth began knocking together again. Emma crouched down, fishing in the darkness for Killian's blanket but only found that his body was so cold he probably wasn't awake due to some sort of cold coma. She tried again, swinging her up out in a wider search grid, but instead she managed to touch the side of his face, his skin stiffened and colder than she thought humanly possible. Killian Jones was absolutely freezing and she'd been wasting her whole useless life wondering if a man could freeze to death in a hotel room rather than offer him a spot in the bed next to her.

“Killian?” Emma tried gently. When she laid her hand on his shoulder his shivering seemed to stop for a second, the muscles relaxing under her touch, but he remained asleep. “Killian?” She tried a little louder, leaning in close to where she thought he might be in the darkness. Her lips touched his cheek when she misjudged the gap between them and leaned in too ardently, jumping back when the polar temperature of his skin against hers shocked her.

“Swan?” Killian whispered groggily, clear confusion in his voice as he rolled over on his makeshift bed and discovered that the blanket he had been using was now missing. “Are you alright?” He pressed, sitting upright and trying to make out her face in the darkness. The snow outside didn’t offer much, but what little light it was reflecting gave him enough to map out the shape of her, and when he squinted, he noted she was covering her mouth. “What is it? Are you cold? Hurt?” A pang of dread filled his gut and he unconsciously moved closer to her, on hand reaching for hers in an attempt to make out any possible injuries.

“No. What? I’m fine,” Emma said quickly when he pulled her hand from covering her mouth. If she thought the feel of his cold skin on her warm lips was something of a shock, it was nothing compared to the abnormal heat of his hands currently toying with hers in the blackness. “Why are your hands so warm?” She muttered absently, frowning to herself.

“I beg your pardon?” Killian asked softly, deft fingers skimming over the skin on her inner wrist and making her shiver.

Emma wasn’t speechless very often. In fact, she couldn’t ever remember a time when she had been rendered so absolutely useless. The way he was touching her was innocent enough. She could practically hear his wonder in the dead of night, feel his compassion as he searched her bare forearm for an invisible wound he had fabricated in his sleep addled mind, but what really rendered her so silent was the _way_ he executed the lightest touches, like she was the most delicate thing to be held by man, like she might break if he held on to her too tightly. She couldn’t tell if he was talking anymore either, since the blood rushing in her ears had elevated in volume in time with the panicked beating of her heart, the timbre of his words like she had shoved her head underwater in the bath and he was talking at her from the next room.

His touch changed, fingertips dragged down her bare forearm before they rested lovingly in the palm of her hand and made the world fall out from beneath her feet. Her fingers curled around his instinctively, holding on to his shadow in the night, something in his touch telling her everything she needed to know in that exact moment. A raw, primal instinct crept up her spine and Emma interlocked their fingers, and then out of nowhere her hearing returned, more acute than before, the faintest intake of air Killian had inhaled like the loudest thing she had ever heard.

“You were cold,” Emma uttered softly, her free hand coming to rest on her lips where the memory of his skin still lingered.

“I’m alright,” Killian assured her with a reassuring brush of his thumb over hers. “I’m a survivor.”

Emma couldn’t stand the tension anymore, begrudgingly pulling her hand from his and jumping to her feet. The room still swarmed with tenebrosity and she could only hear him as he too rose to his feet. She could feel the chill of his toes, even through the material of his socks, and she gulped when he moved closer and the now sudden heat of his body radiated the space between them that had just become a lot narrower. His scent invaded her nostrils and her already heightened senses could distinguish between all of the manly attributes he possessed, even underneath the still lingering but fading smell of his aftershave. He even smelled warm, like when the rising of the sun burned away the cold dead of night like magic, a stark contrast to the man she had accidentally kissed awake.

“I tried to find your blanket,” Emma babbled and she could feel the warmth of her own breath fog back against her face from how close he was standing. She swore she could hear his heartbeat like it was right in front of her face, the deep reverberations of each beat pulsating in her ears.

“Thank you,” he purred and Emma felt the warmth of his breath too.

“I…,” she began, unsure of what she was actually going to say and even more unable to form a coherent thought when Killian’s hands caressed the side of her face, first with a gently stroke with the back of his knuckle to gauge her reaction, and then when the pad of his thumb as he cupped her head in his hands.

They seemed to stand there in the void for what felt like forever. His hands soft as they held her head, fingertips stroking through the strands of hair at the base of her skull that were standing for his attention, no mind of the tiny beads of sweat that prickled along her hairline there. She swallowed hard, a dry lump having formed in her throat, and her lips dried, the skin taut, even after her tongue darted out to moisten them. A soft hum of what she considered appreciation vibrated in his throat, but all she really knew was how it intensified every one of his touches, like she could feel his pulse from his fingertips on her skin, swimming in the high of a drug she hadn’t even realised she’d taken.

“Swan,” he growled and she felt the lightest scrape of his fingernails on her scalp, like he was fighting an internal being he had no control over. He paused, probably to moisten his own lips, before continuing with such a deep darkness to his voice, Emma couldn’t help the way her core throbbed in response. “I would very much like to kiss you,” he admitted in a raspy voice.

“Me?” Emma asked dumbly, the taste of his breath lingering on her tongue.

“Aye,” he replied and she could hear him smiling in the dark. “Is that alright?”

Emma needed something to ground her to reality and her hands found his wrists, holding on for dear life, anchoring herself in the storm of what was inevitably to come. She felt him tense, like she might remove his hands from her body, like he might be denied the last drop of water in a drought, but was quick to reassure him with a small nod.

“Yes,” she choked out, the intensity of his closeness almost too much to bear. “I’d like that.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Killian rasped and there was so little time between his words and his lips on hers that Emma felt like she had just been thrust into a hurricane, her world spinning, everything swirling around her in a concussive mess with Killian Jones at the helm of the ship that would either sail her to salvation or damn her to fate.

He kissed her hard and for a split second Emma had time to wonder how he had become so good, then his hands traversed the column of her neck and skimmed across her collarbones in search for more bare flesh, hungry in their search. Emma’s hands roamed down his forearms, the dark hairs there much softer than she would have imagined for their density, her hands jumping to the back of his head in an attempt to hold his lips to hers. She had to reach up on her tiptoes, nose tips bumping as they found a position that was natural, his lips sliding against hers, tongue teasing the seam of them as his fingertips danced at the edge of the t-shirt she was wearing as makeshift nightwear.

Killian’s hands continued their exploration, seeking out the figure of her hips as they dove under the material of her t-shirt, the even thinner material of her underwear not nearly enough to hide the prickle of goosebumps that rippled over the curve of her behind when he hand made it there. Emma was hungry for his kiss, clutching the back of his head in an attempt to never lose the taste of his lips on hers, finally teasing his tongue with hers and earning her a wicked grin from the man towering over her. Killian pawed at her behind, a low grumble deep in his throat letting her know of his appreciation for the fact she had been just wearing underwear and a t-shirt, through which she was sure he could feel the hardening of her nipples. Her desperation only seemed to spur him on, both of his hands finally planting themselves firmly on her arse and hoisting her into the air where he encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist with a grunt that tore her insides apart with need.

She whined when he tore her lips from his and walked them a few steps across the room, the entire thing wobbling under their combined weight when he slammed her into the wall opposite the bed. Emma let out a shriek of combined delight and surprise, her hands grasping onto his shoulders even though she was confident he wouldn’t drop her, his lips covering hers once more to disguise the sounds of a woman screaming in the dead of night. Emma slipped a little but knew instantly it was a plan on Killian’s part when he ground his hips into hers, the hardness of his cock rubbing against her cloth covered clit, another dull throb afflicting her where her legs were spread wide and her underwear already sodden.

Killian didn’t stop, his weight pinning her to the wall whilst one hand skimmed over the smoothness of her leg currently wrapped around his body, confident she wouldn’t fall because of how tight her grip on him was. Her feet were crossed at the ankles and Emma’s heels dug into his spine each time he rolled his hips against her, her thighs quaking under a combination of how hard she could feel he was and how much her body wanted him caressing the deepest part of her. Her shoulders burned from how hard he had her pinned to the wall, and if Killian Jones was as good at making love as he was at kissing, then she would need some serious aftercare in the morning.

Eventually, she had to come up for air, unwittingly slamming her head into the wall when she misjudged the space she would actually have to draw her breath. She winced, confused, before Killian’s hands were pushing the hair from her brow and he was spinning them around and taking the few steps it would take him to navigate to the bed. The pain at the back of her head lasted for no time at all, and she barely remembered it when Killian set her down into the crumpled sheets where she had been trying to sleep earlier on and peeling her hands from his body. Emma pouted, wondering why he was so eager to let her go when it was so obvious he was as turned on as her, and when he stepped out of her limited view, she strained to listen for any clues as to what he was up to.

Eyes wide in the darkness, lips still tingling from the ferocity of his kiss, Emma made her best attempt to translate the sounds she was hearing into coherent thought, but her arousal was making it harder than it should have been. She could hear him moving around at the end of the bed, the dull thud of material hitting the floor as he shed his own t-shirt, the sound muted by the hotel carpet not once but twice as he stripped himself of his underwear too. Emma felt heat prickle over her flesh again, unsure as to where he was in the dark room, her body skirting the line between fight or flight as she desperately tried to work out what a man she had only known for less than six hours might do next.

The duvet ruffled, the sound of the feathery down shifting over the sheets as Emma felt it slip away from her when Killian pulled it towards the end of the bed. There was another moment of lustful anticipation when she felt the mattress dip under the weight of him and his miraculously warm hands found the very tips of her toes, fingers skirting up the length of her legs in a slow torture that had her falling back against the pillows with a hefty sigh. She heard him chuckle gruffly, proud of the way he could elicit such frustration from so little effort, undoubtedly pleased with the affect he was having on her body, especially when his hands reached her knees, he gently coaxed her legs apart like opening a book, and bit his bottom lip with a hum of appreciation.

“You’re incredible,” Emma sighed in a daze, one hand checking the temperature of her forehead in an attempt to ascertain the actual temperature a woman could combust.

“I’ve only kissed you, darling,” Killian purred humbly.

“I know!” She gulped when he traced the inside of each thigh with a single fingertip, the muscles in Emma’s legs twitching and a nervously induced laugh tumbling from her lips.

He smirked wickedly, aware she couldn’t see him and everything she was feeling was heightened by the thrill of what was to come in the twilight hours. He could smell her arousal, even from just sitting between her legs, her womanly scent like coming home after a long trip, it’s comfort in smell only surpassed by how it tasted, and Killian had no doubt Emma would taste like divinity itself. His touch turned a little firmer, roughened palms pawing at the flesh of her inner thighs and a thumb ever so lightly skimming the material of her underwear right over her clit. “If you think the kiss was good,” he growled, settling into position so that his face was almost touching the apex of her thighs, and where Emma would certainly be able to feel his hot breath with every word. “You’re going to really enjoy what comes next.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat and any skin left unaffected by his ministrations flushed hot with a pricking sensation that had her wondering what else he had in store for her. She felt tense just thinking about it, and the way Killian was nuzzling her clit through her panties was just working her up even more. She was biting her bottom lip so hard it hurt and her hips wiggled in an attempt to hurry him along, but her plan was fouled before it had even begun.

"Ah ah ah," Killian purred, grabbing her hips and holding her still whilst he pressed not one, but two very open mouthed kisses to her panties. Emma whimpered, her eyes rolling back in her head, her bones dissolving and leaving her weightless. "Hold still, love."

Killian hooked two very eager fingers into the waistband of her underwear and barely left a space between his lips and the fabric as he tugged them down. Emma heard him gasp, and almost instantly felt the hot, wet tip of his tongue slip between her folds, the gentleness by which he was disrobing her forgotten in favour of a deep, unsated hunger that had him tearing her underwear off and tossing them aside.

"My Gods," Killian whimpered between lapping up her essence and trying to stop himself coming on the sheet. "You're just as sweet as I imagined you'd be."

Emma coughed out a laugh, hiding her face in her hands despite the fact that a man she barely knew was currently sucking in her clit. Killian stopped suddenly, lifting his head and looking up at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to stop giggling. When she moved her hands and looked down at him, her cheeks blooming with pink, Killian kissed her inner thigh without breaking eye contact once.

"I'm sorry," Emma told him through a stifled laugh.

"No, no," Killian told her with a forced smile. "No need to apologise, love."

"It's just…"

"Here I am, enjoying the finest meal ever to pass through my lips, and…"

"Stop!" Emma insisted with a coy smirk.

Killian crawled up over her body like a predator on the prowl, settling over her so that his body was flush with her's, adjusting his hips so that she could feel what effect she had on his body. Emma held his face in her hands giving him a smile and guiding his lips to hers for another kiss. There was something different, the intensity behind his earlier thirst quenching kiss now gone and a slow, steady passion appearing in his place. Emma hummed against his lingering kiss, enjoying the taste of herself, her fingertips idly stroking over the point of his ear that she had noticed earlier.

When Killian broke the kiss, he couldn't help but brush a few stray hairs from her face, combing his fingers through the straw gold in an attempt to make out her features in the dark.

"You don't get many compliments, do you?" Killian gave her a soft, knowing smile, and even though Emma couldn't quite make him out, she could feel the curve of his lips as she stroked his face.

"Is it that obvious?" Emma screwed up her nose. She was uncomfortable with compliments because every man who had ever paid her one was after something, and she had fallen for it every time.

"Emma," he blinked. "You laughed."

"I know, I'm sorry!"

Emma laughed again and Killian couldn't help the way the sound of her laughter made him smile even wider. If someone had told him that he would meet a woman he was this comfortable with after just a few hours, he would have ditched his flight to Norway ages ago. Emma had a charm about her that he found so pure he was almost ready to ignore the raging throb in his erection just to listen to her.

Almost.

"If I promise not to talk anymore about…" Killian paused, sucking a breath through his teeth. His voice had changed, a primal edge wrapped around every word that sobered her laugh and rendered her unable to swallow, her throat closing up as Killian's hand roamed down the side of her body and he nudged her legs open with his knee. "...about the way you taste…" He slipped a finger through her folds and collected some of the wetness there, lifting it to his mouth and giving it an exaggerated suck.

"Yes," Emma interrupted dreamily, swallowing hard.

"Yes?" Killian parroted slowly, his voice like honey.

"Don't be cruel, Killian," Emma pouted.

"I guess, we could skip straight to dessert," he suggested with a grin. Killian snaked a hand between their bodies again, a single finger circling her clit with the barest of touches before dipping it into her core and making her arch off the bed beneath him. "I think you're just about ready, aren't you, darling?"

Emma’s answer was short, barely a sigh, and if she didn’t relieve some of the tension in her body then she was going to explode. She grabbed his face in her hands and pulled it towards her, his mouth already open in anticipation of her kiss, teeth colliding and lips bruising under the frenzy of it. Soft pants filled the room as Killian pinned her down with his body, hips anchored to hers and his length dragging through the slickness of her arousal in an attempt to rein in his own roaring beast inside. He was so close, balanced on the precipice of euphoria, but he didn’t want to leave Emma unsatisfied.

The slow drag of his cock over her clit was enough to ramp up Emma’s breathing and he could practically feel the pulse of her blood as her clit pounded rhythmically on each thrust. Killian grinned wickedly against Emma’s lips when she gasped suddenly, the tip of him having slipped just inside of her when he pulled back too far, the hot, wet tightness of her trying desperately to pull him in deeper. Emma attempted to lift her hips but Killian held her down, his fingers replacing the teasing of his cock where they rubbed furiously over her clit, Emma’s breathing becoming more and more staggered, until one of her hands flew out to grab his bicep and her orgasm ripped through her like a tornado of blinding white lights and aftershocks that left her quaking beneath him.

“F...fuck,” she whispered, eyes pinched closed as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, letting him continue to stroke the bundle of nerves between her legs but encouraging him to do so more softly but gently gripping his wrist.

Killian watched her as she relaxed, her high point making way for the way the endorphins of her pleasure made her grin like a cheshire cat, something he already knew he could get used to watching. His hand stilled and she slowly peeled her eyes open, her vision blurry but her hands only just mapping the outline of his smile in the dark before Killian turned his face into her palm and kissed the soft skin there.

“Are you alright?” He teased, leaning down to kiss her. “Do you need me to stop?” He asked between kisses, quick, chaste little pecks to the corner of her mouth that had her shaking her head with another coy smirk.

“I said, don’t be cruel,” Emma reminded him, the hairs on her arms and nape of her neck straining in their follicles when he moved his attention to her neck. She let out a gentle groan of satisfaction when his tongue darted out and tasted her skin, a languid, open mouthed kiss wiping away the moisture a second later.

“Forgive me,” Killian begged, sliding himself from her grasp and settling with his head facing her bosom. Emma was still wearing her t-shirt but her nipples were solid beneath the material, hardening even more when he nuzzled each with his nose one after the other. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”

“Oh, yeah?” Emma smirked and her skin tingled. “How?”

Killian growled, rolling them over until Emma was sitting astride his lap, his erection pinned between her legs where her near constant wetness gave him an overwhelming sense of pride. Emma wiggled a little until his length was cocooned between her folds, and she gasped involuntarily when he twitched and his cock slapped her still sensitive clit. Emma fell forward, hands splayed out on his chest, eyes fluttering closed from the sensation between her legs that was simultaneously everything and not enough all at once. Killian drifted his hands over her thighs, tickling the skin with the promise of more, her core clenching, everything inside of her crying out for all of him at once when he retracted his touch, scraping his fingernails over her skin.

“Second dessert,” Killian said gruffly, his eyes trained on Emma as she crossed her arms over her body, removed the last layer between them, and her gorgeous breasts swung into his dimmed view, her nipples pulling taut when the cold air hit them and his mouth salivating at the mere thought of tasting them. Emma tossed the t-shirt away from them but they both ignored whatever it knocked off of the hotel dresser.

“Second dessert,” Emma repeated skeptically, not quite believing his statement but willing to give anything Killian Jones had to offer a fair chance.

Killian nodded, enjoying the way she raked her fingernails through his chest hair when he canted his hips again. “And third and fourth, if you’re _really_ hungry.”

Emma ground her hips down onto his length and the grip on her thighs tightened suddenly as he tried to hold his composure. Emma growled and dove forward, her hands clutching his face again, nose to nose in the darkness as his breath gently warmed her smile. “I’ve never been so hungry in all my life.”

Killian lunged at her mouth, lifting his entire upper body off the bed to chase her lips, strong hands holding her steady on his lap so she didn’t topple backward. Emma let out a shriek of excitement and then a gasp when his solid length pressed up against her clit even harder, Killian grabbing onto the flesh of her behind to hold her to him, smirking against her mouth when he felt her stiffen in his arms and begin grinding against his cock.

“You like that, love?” he ground out as Emma took her pleasure.

Emma bit her bottom lip, her eyes rolling back in her head. “God, yeah,” she breathed.

Killian skimmed his hand over the curve of her arse until he could slip a hand between them, the hot, wet nectar Emma’s body had produced in response to him coating his fingers.

“Gods, you're so wet, Emma,” he gasped, almost quaking with the thrill of finding her body so receptive. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growled, clawing at the flesh of her thigh so hard he was sure she would have marks in the morning.

Emma found his mouth again, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip as she kissed him, raking her nails over the skin of his back she could reach, stopping when her hands slid over the curve of his shoulder and down to his nipples. Killian shivered, sucking in a breath, briefly catching a flash of her smile in the dark as she pushed him back down flat onto the bed and covered his body with her own, writhing on top of him and coating his cock in her juices.

“I want your cock,” Emma cooed, rocking back until the tip of him was coated in the warmth of her core. He hissed and Emma rocked forward, teasing him, determined to draw every last ounce of his pleasure from him before they would part their ways in the morning. She nuzzled her nose under his jawline and planted wet, open mouthed kisses to his neck, her fingernails gently scraping over the hard nubs his nipples had become under her assault. “I want all of it,” she whispered into his ear, lightly scraping her teeth over his ear lobe.

“Bloody hell,” Killian rasped, almost choking on the lump that had formed in his throat.

“All,” Emma purred, rocking back and taking in his tip. “Of,” she added, sinking down onto him a little deeper, enjoying the way he hissed and his body went limp, submitting to her completely. “It,” she finished, sighing contently now that he was fully sheathed inside of her, deliciously stretching her throbbing walls beyond anything she had ever experienced before.

Killian’s hands found her behind again, stroking over the softness of her skin as she tried to relax. Taking him all in had been a great idea, in theory, but the darkness had concealed just how thick and long he was, something Emma had only realised once she had sunk down onto him with all her weight. Her thighs began to tremble, like she had pinched a nerve, and she fought of the urge to come with all her might, trying to think of something, anything other than the way Killian’s girth was touching her in all the right places, even before either of them had even thought about moving. She was lost in her pleasure when Killian laid a comforting hand over hers where it rested on his chest, gently coaxing her back to him as he stroked over her fingers with his thumb.

“Emma, do you need me to-,” he began, but she cut him off.

“No, I just…” Her words trailed off and she let out a small sigh, her head spinning. “Why are you so perfect?” she mumbled, more to herself than Killian, but when he chuckled, she knew she had said it out loud.

Killian pulled her to him harder, hands gently stroking her hair and down her back until he felt her go limp, totally relaxing, her smaller frame gently cradled on top of him and her walls less vice-like in their grip. He nudged the side of her face with his nose and she turned her face to him, eyes closed and a full smile on her face. If this could be classed as sex, it would be perfect. No energy needlessly wasted chasing the high of orgasm, just the intimacy of it enough to quell the beast inside. Killian was a simple man, with simple needs, and Emma was exactly what he needed at this exact moment in time.

Holding onto her tightly, Killian rolled them until they were laying on their sides. Face to face in the darkness he reached out and cupped her head in his hands, guiding her lips to kiss for another slow, torturously languid kiss. Emma whimpered against his lips, his erection still seated in her but a little more comfortably now he had changed the angle and slipped out a little. There was still so much of him inside, but Emma felt like she needed more, and as if he could read her mind, Killian lifted her leg and rested it over his hip, canting his hips forward so she could have what she craved. Emma sighed audibly when he began to move, slowly but deliberately, each one of her moans gobbled up by his kisses in a promise that he would neither hurt her or leave her unsatisfied.

“Better, darling?” Killian purred.

Emma nodded, her head falling back onto the pillow.

“Maybe you should leave the carnal wordsmithing to me,” he teased, kissing her jawline.

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed in agreement.

Killian’s hands roamed over her body, following the contour of her breasts, loving the way her nipples grew for his attention. They were a little too tempting and he couldn't help but lean forward to capture one in his mouth, his tongue lathing a circle around the bud before he gave it a long, hard suck. Emma whimpered and grabbed his head, making sure he didn’t stop what he was doing, the burn in between her thighs amplified by the way he was busy worshipping her. She dug her heel into the back of his thigh, pulling him closer, forcing his cock deeper inside of her where she could savour the burning stretch a little more.

“Oh, you’re a greedy little girl, aren’t you?” Killian breathed, his voice tainted with sin. He canted his hips again, enjoying the way her core clenched around his cock as he pushed inside of her, withdrawing slowly just to do it again, but just a little deeper.

“Fuck,” Emma panted, clawing his scalp when he moved to her other nipple.

“That’s the idea, love,” Killian growled, smirking into the valley of her breasts.

“I want it harder,” Emma whispered, her words incoherent and almost inaudible over the sound of him suckling her nipple again.

“Hmm?” Killian lifted his head, raising an eyebrow cockily, thrusting into her with a little more force.

“Harder,” Emma pleaded breathlessly, her fingernails clawing the skin of his neck.

Killian grinned wickedly, his tongue running over the point of his canine, his hands steadying her as he rolled them over a little until she was underneath him once more. Emma seemingly melted into the duvet, the simple act of him moving them causing him to slip into her deeper, right to the hilt of him, her toes curling as she gasped at the sensation.

“Oh, she likes it deep,” Killian exhaled, his knees digging into the comforter as he pulled out and then thrust back into her with just the right amount of force to steal her breath. He repeated the motion and Emma wrapped her legs around his waist, interlocking her ankles behind his back, her heels digging into his spine each time he buried himself full inside of her again and again.

“Yes,” Emma hissed. “More.”

Caught on the edge of her orgasm, Emma raised her arms, hands clutching onto the pillow above her head. Killian’s were not far behind, palms skimming up the length of them until his fingers gently curled around her wrists, holding her at his mercy. Emma felt him everywhere and everything was amplified by the darkness, her senses alight with a pure bliss that she hadn’t ever really felt. Killian was more than a quick lover, someone who would become nothing more than a one night stand. His level of detail when he was intimate was incredible, making sure that every single part of him was touching every single part of her, and making sure that she absolutely knew it.

“The lady wants more,” Killian muttered to himself, slamming into her again and letting the bounce of the bed impale her on him once more. All of the breath left her lungs and he felt her muscles grip him tighter. “The lady wants to come.”

Emma bit her bottom lip and she whimpered a plea.

“Alright, love,” Killian relented, kissing her softly.

He released her arms and Emma’s hands were immediately on his face, making sure his lips never left hers as he rolled his hips again and caused her to moan into his mouth. She smiled when he thrust again, his pubic bone hitting her clit and making the white lights behind her eyelids more prominent, a sure sign her arousal had reached an all time high and she would be clutching onto the edges of reality in no time. One of Killian’s hands found her hip, stopping her writhing so he could move into her with more force, his pace quickening in time with the blood pounding in her ears.

Emma’s muscles took on a life of their own, her legs relaxing and slipping over the curved of his behind, opening the apex of her thighs up and encouraging him to double his efforts. Killian went full force, tiny beads of sweat pooling in the dimple of his back as he tried to hold back his own release. The vice-like grip Emma’s core muscles had was driving him insane, his cock blissfully trapped in the best place, the sound of how wet she was filling his ears as he fucked her. There was a second where he heard Emma’s breathing change, the breathless squeak she emitted an obvious sign of her orgasm, the way her fingernails dug into the globes of his arse confirmation she had peaked, his urge to meet her in euphoria only surpassed by his wish that the lights were on so he could see the majesty of her face as he made her come.

One last kiss, hard and possessive, saw him following her over the edge, his tongue lapping at hers as his hips jerked and he emptied the last of himself into her. Killian stilled, his cock throbbing, the dull ache in his balls ebbing away when he felt Emma grab his head and pull his face back to hers with a content giggle, her smile pressed to his that was equally as wide.

“My God,” Emma panted. Killian slid his mouth over her cheeks, pressing delicate kisses to every inch of her face, trailing them down to her jawline with a growl. She felt him raise a playful eyebrow against her skin, his modesty knowing no bounds. “That was…”

“A one time thing?” Killian offered sarcastically.

“Are you kidding?” Emma screeched in objection. “I’m missing my flights more often if this is how it ends.”

Having gone limp inside of her, Killian slid down the bed, his chin resting on her bosom as she stroked his hair.

“How about I give you my number and we skip the formalities of having to buy tickets to flights we never intend to take?”

There was a hopefulness in his voice that made Emma relieved he felt the same way, but also a nervousness that told her he wasn’t as confident about what her answer might be. The rhythmic stroking of her fingers through his hair caused him to hum in happiness, and Emma realised she hadn’t felt at ease with anyone like this for quite some time, or more importantly, now craved it after finding a kindred soul.

“How about I gave you my number and we can mutually arrange, oh I don’t know, something normal, like dinner?” She suggested, her fingers playing with the light scruff along his jawline.

Killian smirked against her skin, kissing the slightly salty skin of her breasts whilst his thumb drew lazy lines into his profile. “Aye, love, I’d like that,” he agreed.

“Great!” Emma declared. “But I do have some bad news."

Killian's heart sank, the muscles crushing his chest. "Oh?" He queried, trying to hide the disappointed tone to his voice.

"Yeah, I'm afraid, due to policy, we will have to share a room," Emma joked, a smirk appearing on her lips. "And there will only be one bed."

"Shocking," he replied with a gasp. "Truly a scandal."

"And who knows, we might even make it to second dessert,” she added smugly. “And third and fourth, if you’re _really_ hungry.”

Killian growled low in his throat, the thought of tasting his own seed mixed with her juices setting off a train of thought that caused his cock to twitch to life. He pushed himself to a position where Emma was caged in by his arms, her head turning briefly to press a kiss to his bicep as he brushed the hair from her brow and his knee nudged her legs open again. "Emma, darling," he purred, dragging his tongue down over her skin, through the space between her breasts and over the flat plane of her stomach, her diaphragm contracting the skin away from his attentions reflexively. "I'm absolutely famished."


End file.
